Pound foolish

Its quite macabre

to feast one’s eyes

on the pale faced red mouthed clown

he kind of comes from the circus show

really sort of down

behind

the main acts

he’s the in fill

weird in many ways

who is the man behind the mask

and what is the game he plays?

second fiddle, to I ask

the feral souls he sees

the rooks and ravens in the sky

the pigeons in the trees

the cats he’s into cats somehow

he likes to show them who

is master of the environment

they live in so to do

he likes to gun them  down

and shoot sweet  cows  full on

where they stand

he likes to hear the sound

of a cow as her great bulk

hits the ground

her sad eyes bulging from the shock

and the huge amount of blood

pound foolish in intimidating clowns dress

wipes some mud

on his face his clown face

a sort of terrorist

numinous and perturbing

he is trying to enlist

those innocent  who spring free

when the bogeyman arrives

firing his rifle pointedly

till nothing there survives

the clown needs locking up

the woods arn'[t safe

when he’s about

blabbing on  full swagger

giving cause for doubt

right before your eyes

hunting in the dark of night

bringing down his game

noit for the faint hearted

who may never feel the same